Day Two - of chaos and changing plans

Day 2 of the pre wedding preparations saw chaos in motion. Trying to co-ordinate 14 people and a three year old, for lunch and shopping may seem like a fairly simple task but in reality and amidst Calcutta’s very own brand of pandemonium, it was no picnic. We managed to get to the airport bright and early to meet the 2 latest arrivals from the UK, Rich and Nadine who arrived looking frazzled and dazed but delighted to have finally reached the end of a very long journey. Rich revealed that he’d slept for only 2 of the past 48 hours but nevertheless was up for the shopping expedition which we had planned for everyone to pick up their gear for the wedding reception. So after a delicious lunch during which I suddenly remembered that I had left everyone’s sarees at the guesthouse and had to charge back to pick them up so they would be able to select bangles to match, we headed to New Market. Imagine trying to steer a large party of foreigners through the dark twisted interiors of New Market, whilst from all sides hawkers and salesmen and beggars and scruffy street urchins pulled at clothes and tried to touch bright blonde locks of hair and pale skin, hoping to appeal to the soft hearted westerners who would be more than likely to dip into pockets give generously.

We headed first to pick up sherwanis for the guys …. And waited and waited … and waited … as they chased around to find a cashpoint. Apparently the UK banks have introduced new tougher security rules which basically means that none of our lot were able to get any money out of the ATMs so everyone was in a bit of a panic. Somehow they managed to beg borrow and steal enough rupees to get by, and joined us for the sherwani shopping. Boys all looked like white maharajahs in their gorgeous outfits, and I think they primped and preened more than the women. Next, salwar shopping for the girls. Having dispatched the boys to the Oberoi coffee shop, girls were free to shop to their hearts’ content – oohing and sighing over stunning fabrics bejeweled and glittering, shimmering and shining.

Interesting to see the British dealing with the mayhem that can be India. Brits are so used to having their lives measured out in 15 minute intervals, making plans weeks in advance for even a dinner date, and heaven forbid anyone who might just drop round for a coffee on the spur of the moment. We are, as a nation, bound by our collective need for order and for everything to be proper and in its correct place, for meetings to start on time, trains to run on time (though they rarely do, which gives us fodder for the moaning which we love to indulge in) and meals to arrive on time. India is the complete opposite, bound by chaos and the need to create chaos to be able to offer solutions, meetings which never begin on time and always due to ‘the traffic” (as if its not part and parcel of life), and trains which ironically DO run on time. In India its unusual for a plan not to change, in fact any preparations however painstaking will normally be turned upside down and back to front before the day is done, and that’s all acceptable and normal. We Brits (and I include myself even though I’m used to this system now) get so uptight when plans change, because we are programmed to make things happen on time and without delay. In India, there are delays for no reason (or so it seems) or for reasons which may seem unacceptable or odd to us (traffic, prayers, stopped for chai, illness in family etc). When plans change here, Indians take it in their stride and adapt to the new arrangement without asking too many questions. Brits huff and puff and generally get hot under the collar. When there are delays which make waiting a necessity, the Indians calmly get out their dabbas, drink chai, read the paper and smile all the while. Whereas the Brits huff and puff some more, grinding their teeth with the effort of not wringing anyone’s neck. Always fun to see afresh the cultural differences between our countries.

Friends and Family

Vivek's Granny .... somewhat bemused by all the activity ....

Day One - of worlds colliding

So the first of my friends arrived from England into Calcutta yesterday, and we all met up at VIvek’s sister’s place for lunch. Talk about twilight zone, it was just so bizarre to see my two best girlfriends Sarah and Justine and Sarah’s adorable 3 year old , one of my oldest and dearest friends Jamie and his Israeli friend Maya, old friend Jimmy and his wife Sha … sitting in Jo’s living room in Calcutta tucking into Biryani. It was truly one of those – am I awake or am I dreaming moments, and as I’ve been having increasingly bizarre dreams for weeks about the wedding, it was hard to differentiate.
All the guests have settled into the cutesy little guesthouse we’ve booked, and acclimatizing themselves to Calcutta’s pace. Those who have visited before are fairly relaxed and enjoying the familiar sights, sounds and smells which are so generic to any Indian city, those who are coming to the continent for the first time are a little more wide eyed, a little more challenged by the spicy dishes, and certainly not entirely relaxed as we hurtle around the streets in Calcutta’s traffic.

One week countdown ....

One week today and I’ll be waking up as a newlywed. Can’t believe the time has finally come, and we’re actually living all those excel lists and plans and e mail promises. Seems like we’ve been planning this forever, I can’t even remember a weekend when we haven’t had to shop for lehenga, go for wedding dress fittings, send e mails to guests reminding them to confirm flight details, speak to sister in laws about accommodation plans in Calcutta, order rings etc etc. But I think we planned it all pretty well and down to the last detail, finally. Now all that remains is to see how far life imitates the plan.
Of course, the best laid plans always go awry, and last minute hiccups should be savored rather than stressed over. My ability to relax and go with the flow was sorely tested yesterday when I decided to show Mum my amazing bridal lehenga …. And so I shook out the jewel encrusted skirt, flaunted the backless bodice and reached for the dazzling dupatta … the dupatta (scarf part and very integral to the entire outfit) … which was nowhere to be found. After scrabbling frantically through the cupboards and searching my brain for its whereabouts whilst my husband to be tried to calm me down, it was clear that the dupatta had not accompanied the other parts of the lehenga home. WE rushed to the store …. I tried to stop my voice from going squeaky as I breathlessly asked the patient salesman – my lehenga, my lehenga, no dupatta, see …. Calmly he reached for his book of receipts, located one and informed me that I had in fact left it back for minor alteration a month previously. Doh!!! Shamefacedly I retrieved the gorgeous item and finally banished all nightmarish thoughts of being the world’s first dupatta-less bride.
Mum and Dad and Julie arrived 3 days ago, and we’ve enjoyed catching up and getting them prepped for the wedding events. Picked up a lovely salwar for Mum, another dazzling lehenga for Julie (though of course not as blingy as mine J) and a sherwani for Dad. Then went shopping for bangles and bindis, the best part. Simply hold out your lovely bright saree/dupatta/blouse, stand back and allow the banglewala to mix and match from his vast and glittering collection of brightly coloured bangles, some silvery hued, others all colours of the rainbow, some studded with crystals and pieces of glass which catch the light as you glide through the room. Within a few seconds, he has feverishly unwrapped and mixed and matched a set of bangles, one for each arm, which perfectly complement your outfit.

So near .....

Picked up the rings .. (but had to lock them away for safekeeping ... waa waa)

Three weeks and counting

So we crossed the 'one month and we'll be married' point ... couldn't work out if the 'one month to go' countdown started from Weds 8th Oct or 4 Saturday's before D day, but both seemed significant anyhow. Today we went to church and heard the first banns being read which was awesome and kind of strange at the same time. 

So now everything is really done, lists and lists written and rewritten and ticked off and everyone organised and sorted and flights booked and invites out and accomodation booked for foreign guests and clothes organised and church booked (that took some doing as they required M15 style security check in form of proof from various sources that I'm REALLY 38 years old and omigod actually unmarried yes spinsterish and withering away on that top shelf with ovaries rapidly dessicating into sultanas I may be BUT NO I AM NOT MARRIED). Finally, it took a letter from a Brit Member of Parliament and a letter from one of

 India's Top 25 Businesswomen (according to Business India Today) to prove to the Cathedral's fogeyish committee that I am free to be married and that after marriage it is unlikely that husband and band of 5 kids will turn up and claim otherwise (an event which actually did recently happen, hence their paranoia). But now, finally, I am set to glide swanlike up that long long aisle .... 

We had fun getting the 500 invites printed at this wonderful little homestyle printers tucked deep into one of Andheri's little communities ... every invite hand printed, this was one place which the digital age hasn't touched. We did end up laser printing the envelopes, but still the desi hand touch defined our invitations. The invites were loudly claimed to be 'awesome' by one and all - a particularly flattering pic of the 2 of us taken at a party last year (and a bit of retouching of lines and freckles Praise the Photoshop) and with a tracing paper cover and the invite inside in silver lettering. Gorgeous. 

Indian Shocker

So I was in the office today when in bounds Ashok, visiting from Delhi. Last time I saw Ashok, he was lamenting his single status and wished he could find a nice girl to marry and settle down with. that was 3 or 4 months ago. He rushed into my office today, huge grin on his face, and thrust  card into my hands. No ordinary card this, but a wedding card - Ashok marries Priya. My face must have showed its confusion, but the Indians in my office nodded wisely. From single to married in a heartbeat .... sometimes I think the whole Indian system of arranged marriages has its benefits. Whilst a million western girls wilt bridget jones like on the shelf, their perky Indian counterparts are advertising for their spouses in the newpaper, interviewing them, and arranging their nuptials if their horoscopes match.